


forever yours

by windsbrand



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daein Prince AU, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsbrand/pseuds/windsbrand
Summary: When the Mad King's War is over, Daein is left without a king, and a crown prince without his father.None of that matters to Soren nearly as much as what he is going to do about his relationship with Ike.
Relationships: Ike/Senerio | Soren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65





	forever yours

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY HI I'M NOT DEAD! this is a secret santa gift for candleloro, part of the ike/soren discord exchange!   
> this is super condensed and i tried my absolute best to give context where i could without dragging this out too long. as soon as wyw is finished, as well as my plans for another longfic, i'm really tempted to expand this universe... so please accept this bite-sized piece of the ending! i'm not super proud of this but i definitely don't hate it, i just wish i could make it a full-sized fic ;w; but i hope y'all enjoy regardless (especially candle!)  
> happy holidays!

It was almost as if he had forgotten how to breathe.

The world, deprived of all its colors, had created a vacuum around Soren. The only sight that interrupts Daein’s lifeless winter was the body of its king, a stark crimson bleeding onto the tiles of the courtyard.

“Prince Soren!”

The urgency in his retainer’s voice implies that Ike had been calling out to him for some time. He has no real measure for how long he had been staring at the body of his father and mount, but it had to be a number of minutes for Ike to sound so distraught.

“Ike,” he whispers, barely registering the other man’s hands on his shoulders. “I’m alright. We… we did it.”

“We did.”

Only when Ike’s hands slip into his own does he notice that he’s trembling. After several months of organizing his coup, convincing starving soldiers to his side, and communicating with the lost princess of Crimea in secret, he had finally defeated his father.

King Ashnard of Daein is dead, slain by his own son and his retainer, one the bearer of a sword thought lost to time, the other a foolish boy who had trembled at the sound of his father’s voice for far too long.

Despite the political and logical motivations behind overthrowing Ashnard, Soren couldn’t help but allow his personal feelings to flood through him. He spits at the crumbled body on the ground, finally feeling free enough to breathe. The cold nipping at his cheeks, the wind tossing his hair and the warmth of Ike’s hands in his reminds him that all of this was _real_. He wasn’t dreaming, the Mad King was gone, and Tellius wouldn’t fall into chaos.

He could stay with Ike.

“Prince Soren, we should go back inside. My father will handle the details, you need to get some rest.”

Rest… that would be nice. He hasn’t slept in close to two days. His conjoined assault with the ragtag Crimean Liberation Army was something he had poured over each night without fail. He was a noble, the future king to a country, but he was close to collapsing. Surely his people wouldn’t fault him for a few hours of sleep.

“Okay.” He can’t find the energy to say more than that, his gaze fixing on the clouds high above Daein Keep even as Ena rushes to his father’s mount. Soren doesn’t have the patience to decipher the meaning of it. He is starkly aware that he was awake, his feet are moving and Ike’s arm is around his waist protectively, but he still feels like he’s floating as he’s led back to his room deep within the castle.

When Ike opens the door to his room he was almost surprised to see nothing had changed. Almost. Soren knew for a fact that Ashnard had intercepted at least _one_ of the letters he had sent to the princess. He saw Soren as such a small threat that he could easily erase or correct that he hadn’t bothered to do away with his things or destroy his room while he was out of the capital for the last month. Were he not so utterly exhausted, he would have found it in himself to be angry with his father again.

“Soren.” Ike closes the door behind them and guides Soren to take a seat on the edge of his bed, the title immediately gone. “I know a lot has happened in the last hour or so, but how are you feeling?”

“I… I feel… very numb. I’m okay, but part of me is in disbelief right now.” He doesn’t react as his retainer starts to remove his blood-stained robes, content to let Ike take care of him.

Thankfully Ike doesn’t feel a need to draw out the conversation, and once Soren is in his soft underclothes, begins to remove his own armor. He motions for Soren to situate himself under the covers.

When Ike finally joins him, Soren immediately curls into his embrace, his retainer’s fingers threading through his hair.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Not having much a choice in the matter, he quickly drifts off.

✧

When Soren finally felt like he could open his eyes again, he became painfully aware that Ike was no longer holding him. The bed was still warm, but _Ike wasn’t there_.

Panic stabs through his chest as he thrashes about to look for him. His anxiety spikes one last time before he lays eyes on the other man—who was now staring blankly out the window, pale moonlight drifting through despite the heavy snow clouds.

Ike must’ve heard Soren wake up because he turns to meet his prince’s gaze, face apologetic. “Sorry. I woke up a while ago, but I just got out a bed. I’m a little stiff.” His shoulder cracks as he rolls it to prove his point.

“You’re fine.” Soren quickly assuages him, his voice unnecessarily tight. “I just… forgot where we were for a moment.”

Ike chuckles but doesn’t tease him beyond that. “I get it. It’s been… a lot, these last few days.”

“What an understatement.” Soren buries his face in his hands, pulling at his bangs for the sting of pain that will finally pull him from his… nap? “How long was I asleep?”

“My guess is about ten hours. It seems like midnight, from how high the moon is.”

He jolts to look at Ike again. “ _What_? I didn’t intend to sleep that long, I’m sure they’ve been looking for me and—”

“It’s fine. Everyone knows you stayed up day and night to make sure that we would retake Nevassa, so nobody is faulting you for resting. I talked to my father about it last night. He agreed to take care of the aftermath along with the other generals.”

Ike is Soren’s retainer. As the crown prince of Daein, Soren’s safety and well-being were considered as a top priority by the staff in Daein Keep. Those responsibilities fell doubly on Ike’s shoulders. Even purely from a professional standpoint, Ike was supposed to take care of him, and it had been so for nearly a decade.

They were friends. _Lovers_. Yet some part of him still felt shocked to be on the receiving end of such kindness and consideration. The last two days Soren had barely given Ike the time of day, against his own will, but Ike had understood. Ike was thinking about him and his health regardless of when Soren was able to express his affection or appreciation. It was all he could do to not throw himself at him, tired body aside, though Ike had seemingly become a mind reader as he crosses the room to cradle Soren into his arms.

“I know we’ve been… close, for a while.” Soren doesn’t cringe at Ike’s awkward word choice. It wasn’t as though they’d been _courting_ per say, so it rolls right off of his back. “But I want you to remember that you deserve to be healthy. And happy. Your bastard of a father may have convinced you otherwise, but I love you. You aren’t the prince of Daein to me, you’re _Soren_. The nation isn’t going to come toppling down because you ate dinner or got a bit of sleep.”

He only hums in response, content just listening to Ike and pressing himself closer to his shoulder. His words are immensely comforting, more than he could possibly know. Soren had always struggled with his romantic feelings for Ike, and the thought of forcing Ike into a relationship he hadn’t wanted always hung over his head even now. Ike reminding him of who he loved—Soren, not the prince of Daein—was something he longed to hear each and every time he began to spiral back into anxiety.

Ike’s lips brush against his cheek, and Soren can’t help the flush that spreads across his face. He doesn’t feel a desire for anything more right now, he’s far too tired and mentally _gone_ , but Ike’s touch still sends a tiny thrill through him each time. That wouldn’t change no matter how many years had passed.

That simple motion makes something all too clear to him. He wants Ike. He wants to be able to flaunt him across Tellius, to show the entire world that they belong to each other and always had. Keeping it secret had been painful so far and it would no doubt continue to be once he was crowned king. He supposes in a different world, Ike’s reputation has far more political value than his, and this sacrifice wouldn’t be his to make. He can ask Ike. He can voice exactly what he wants, even if nothing comes of it.

“I want to marry you.” Soren blurts before he can shy away. He feels Ike breathe in sharply at his words and Soren stays where he is, almost afraid to see the look in Ike’s eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, as if he’s expecting Soren to say more. The silence quickly becomes suffocating.

“I really do, you know. I… It’s what I want. I don’t care if they run me out of Tellius for it, I don’t care what happens to me. I love you. If you’d have me, I would do anything for you.”

Ike pulls him from his shoulder to cup his face in his hands, his expression heart-stoppingly tender. “You already do,” their lips meet in a shaky kiss, the tension of the moment leaving both of them with a nervous excitement. “and I want that too. I know you’ve never cared all that much about the throne, but the thought that you care about _me_ that much…”

For all his insecurities, there were times that Soren forgot that Ike had them too. Soren was a child when Ike was named his retainer, but even then he had sworn to make Ike feel like his equal in private. The power imbalance of their professional relationship was inevitable. Though Soren worked to reassure his partner that _he loved him_ , _his life was of equal value, he would be lost without him_ , Ike still had difficulties remembering, just as Soren had difficulties that Ike loved him the same as he had when they were children.

“Then let’s get married.” He knows it’s a rather ridiculous proposal—the two of them tangled up with each other, bruised in their underclothes in the middle of the night. It’s definitely not the grand sweeping gesture that Ike deserves, but it’s distinctly _them_ , even though he wants the chance to do it properly again. “Let me propose to you properly tomorrow.”

Ike chuckles before they kiss again, his thumb rubbing gently against Soren’s cheek. “Deal. Being the king consort of Daein could be interesting, but I definitely wouldn’t mind running away with you.”

Soren laughs as well, Ike suddenly tickling him, and they fall back onto the mattress together. It had been far too long since the two of them had the time to do much more than sleep, and despite the hour Soren feels giddy as Ike pulls him back into his chest.

Before everything else this man would be his best friend. They grew up in a hostile political environment, constantly looking over their shoulders and their hands at their own belts, never afraid but always vigilant. Uncomfortably so. Ike had always listened to his fears, brushed them away, and reminded him of who he was outside of the whispers and assassination plots. Outside of his father’s discipline. Soren wouldn’t trade their afternoons in the library or mornings in the training grounds for the world.

Each winter had brought them even closer together, seeking relief from Daein’s harsh chill and the loneliness that their stations had brought them. ‘Good night, Prince Soren’ had turned into ‘I love you so much, Soren’ and now they were here. Five words was all it had taken to finalize their forever.

Ike pulls the covers back over them as they finally settle in. Soren knows this will be a window to his future, curling up against Ike in his own bed, sharing lazy kisses. There was nothing he enjoyed more than being next to Ike.

He knows the morning will be hard, that no matter what choice they make, there will be pain. None of it matters as Ike kisses him one last time. As his _fiancé_ whispers goodnight.

The word ‘husband’ makes it all worth it.


End file.
